The Dragon Queen

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The Dragon Queen Page 12

by William Andrews


  He didn’t look up from his work when I came in. He said in his high voice, “Majesty, thank you for coming to see me.”

  I was surprised that he didn’t stand when I came in. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was in this situation—how we should address each other or who should bow and show deference. I decided I should keep our encounter balanced, and so I stayed standing where I was. “Ahbonim, father-in-law, your messenger said you wanted to talk to me about something important?”

  The Taewŏn-gun dipped the tip of his brush into an ink bottle and held it steadily over the paper. “Yes,” he said. “It is about your course of study.” He carefully touched the tip of the brush on the paper and made a slow, deliberate stroke. He cocked his head and examined the line he had just made. He said, “I hear you want to learn about Japan. Why?” He continued to hold his brush above the paper and inspect his work as he waited for my answer.

  “Ahbonim, Japan is our neighbor. I think it is important for me to know them, don’t you?”

  The Taewŏn-gun dipped his brush into the ink bottle again. “No, I do not.” He held his brush over the paper again and kept his eyes on it. “I have also learned that Lady Min provides you with books that I have not approved. I think she is using you to advance her own agenda.”

  “I only wish to be helpful to you and the king. I thought that—”

  “You are already doing a fine job of being helpful. You have learned to be a gracious hostess. Foreign dignitaries and clan leaders compliment me on your skills. That is valuable to the king and me. You need not do more.” He made another line on the paper with his brush.

  “But, Ahbonim, I want to.”

  The Taewŏn-gun set his brush down and looked at me with sharp eyes framed by his high eyebrows. “You haven’t forgotten your promise, have you?”

  I took a step farther into the room and shook my head. “No, Ahbonim. I just—”

  “Good,” he said. “Since you intend to keep your promise, you do not need the lessons you requested from Mister Euno. Furthermore, I will take charge of your education from now on, not Lady Min. And I will provide you with books more . . . suitable for a young queen. In the meantime, you should perfect your skills as a hostess.”

  “Someday I will have to help the king run the country. Then, I will need to be much more than a hostess.”

  “That day is a long time away,” my father-in-law replied. “You do not need to take up studying Japan or anything more until then. I am in charge now.” He gave me a polite smile. I met his eyes and held them. It was the first time I dared to look at him that way. His smile slowly dropped. After some time, I looked away. I wanted to argue with him, make a case for my education. But he was the Taewŏn-gun, Korea’s mighty regent, and I was afraid to confront him.

  “That is all I wanted to tell you,” he said, finally. “Thank you for coming to see me, Majesty.” He picked up his brush and turned back to his work as if I weren’t there.

  I walked through the cold back to my quarters. When I got there, Han-sook took my outer robe and I went into my study. I looked around. I had everything a person could want—a beautiful place to live in, servants to attend to my every need. Everyone bowed and called me “Your Majesty.” It was more than I could have ever imagined only a few years earlier. And yet, the Taewŏn-gun had controlled my life, and now he would control what I could learn.

  I went to the lattice wall that looked out over the main palace courtyard. I slid the wall open and let the cold breeze blow over me. I looked beyond the palace, north toward Bukhansan Mountain on guard over Seoul like a steadfast soldier. I looked the other way out over the city of Seoul and thought of my thousands of subjects who lived there. Queen Min, they called me. But what kind of queen was I? If I were to speak for the spirit of Korea, I would have to be a dragon queen. But the Taewŏn-gun was only ever going to let me be a stone queen. To him, I was like his new palace—something to behold and impress, but silent like the courtyard stones.

  I slid the wall closed against the cold and went back into my study. I opened a drawer in my bat chest and retrieved paper, a pen, and ink. I dipped the pen into the ink bottle and wrote a short note. I closed it with hot wax and my seal.

  I clapped my hands for Han-sook. She came in and said, “Yes, Majesty?”

  “I want to visit my uncle at the House of Gamgodang,” I stated. “Arrange it. And send him this note at once announcing my visit.”

  “Yes, Majesty,” Han-sook replied. “What should I tell the palace the visit is for?”

  I glared at Han-sook. I wasn’t sure she was someone I could trust. Maybe the Taewŏn-gun himself appointed her my lady’s maid to spy on me. Perhaps she had told him about my lessons. So I said, “He is my uncle and I have not seen him in a long time. Now do as I say and do not ask questions.”

  Han-sook bowed low and left with my note for my uncle.

  FOURTEEN

  I thought the Taewŏn-gun would not allow me to visit my uncle, though it was only a short distance from the palace. As was the way with all women in Korea, men controlled where I could go and who I could see. I did not complain about it. I was still young, and to my disgrace, I had not yet given the king a child. Hence, I didn’t feel I could ask for more freedom, and indeed, I was not given much. So I was surprised when Han-sook reported that the visit was set for midday and that I could take my own entourage.

  Since I had become queen, they rarely let me leave the palace. Many times I had wanted to see my uncle and aunt, but the palace didn’t allow it. When I did leave, I was with the king, Lady Min, and a large following of guards, porters, servants, and slaves, who provided everything we needed while we were away. Sometimes the Taewŏn-gun would go, too, although he usually stayed at the palace to work or was away on government business. On hot summer days, we would go to the countryside for a picnic or an afternoon stroll to escape the heat. Twice we took a ferry across the Han River to Seolleung, to visit the tomb of King Taejo, the founder of the House of Yi. Once, we made a two-week journey to Pusan in the south so the people there could pay their respects to the king and me. There, I saw the sea for the first time and it thrilled me. As I gazed across the water that looked like it was falling off the earth’s edge, I wondered what else there was for me to see in the world and I desperately wanted to see it. But most of the time I stayed inside the palace. So I was excited to be going to the House of Gamgodang on my own.

  When it came time to go to my uncle’s house, eight porters carried my palanquin. The barefoot eunuchs dressed in long red robes were trained to keep the palanquin level and my ride smooth. Behind the palanquin were servants and maids on foot led by Han-sook, stepping along with her small steps. Four guards—the new guard, Kyung-jik, another on foot, and two on horseback—led the procession through the streets of Seoul, pushing people aside and making sure they bowed as I came by. As we moved toward my uncle’s house, I lifted the curtains of my palanquin and looked out at my subjects. They were mostly poor, dressed in drab robes and frocks against the winter wind. None dared raise their eyes to me, and I realized that though I was their queen, I didn’t know them.

  When we arrived at my uncle’s house, the eunuchs lowered the palanquin to the ground. Bowing at the waist, a eunuch lifted the palanquin’s curtain and offered me his hand. When I stepped out, my uncle’s valet, Mr. Yang, was waiting at the gate. When he saw me, he pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses and bowed low. I went to the gate and Mr. Yang said, “Majesty, welcome to the House of Gamgodang.”

  I smiled to myself at Mr. Yang’s servility. Years earlier when I lived with him under the same roof, he never once acknowledged me. To him, I had been useless, nothing more than a beggar in the household he managed. Now, I was his queen, someone to whom he had to bow.

  Since Mr. Yang was a mere servant and I was the queen, the protocol was that I shouldn’t greet him and I didn’t. After a few seconds of bowing without a response from me, he scurried into the house. Soon, my uncle and aunt were at the door, bow
ing and inviting me in. I walked the path to the house and went inside to the main room. My uncle, aunt, and Han-sook followed. My uncle said, “Majesty, it is a great honor to have you grace our house. Welcome.”

  Mr. Yang and Eun-ji were stationed in the back of the room in front of the entire household staff. All were dressed in their finest robes and bowing low. They had set out a tray of tea and rice cakes on the low table. As everyone stayed bowed, I looked around at the dark-wood ceiling beams and polished parquet floors. They had brought out the best celadon pots and placed them against the latticed wall leading to the courtyard where I had trained with Mister Euno that awful spring years earlier.

  “Uncle,” I said, “I wish to talk to you alone.” My uncle clapped his hands, and immediately, the entire staff and even my aunt left the room. Han-sook stayed. “You, too, maid,” I said. “Leave us.” Han-sook bowed and went out through the front door, and I was alone with my uncle.

  I went to the tea table and sat on a cushion. My uncle stayed standing with his eyes low. I hadn’t seen him since my wedding day, and I was thrilled to see him now. He was dressed in his finest hanbok and looked much the same as before—tall and handsome. There were new streaks of gray at his temples, which made him look distinguished. “Sit,” I said. “Have some tea with me.”

  My uncle hesitated a moment, then sat on a cushion across from me. He still didn’t raise his eyes. He poured a cup of tea for me, and one for himself. As I took a sip, I said, “It is strange to visit this house now, as queen.”

  My uncle smiled. “I am sure it is, Majesty.”

  I leaned into my uncle who hadn’t touched his tea. “I believe I am doing well,” I said. “His Excellency, the Taewŏn-gun, compliments me on how I conduct myself with the yangban and dignitaries. Mister Euno still instructs me, but with a delicate hand. I have learned much.”

  “That is good, Majesty.”

  I sighed. “Still, it is not so easy to be happy in the palace. You told me it wouldn’t be, and you were right. You told me something else, too. You said I would have a choice, that I could be a stone queen or a dragon queen. Do you remember?”

  “Yes, Majesty, I do.”

  “Well, Uncle, I have decided.”

  “And what is your decision, Majesty?”

  I set my teacup down. As I looked around the house where I had lived for four years, I was weary of having everyone treat me as if I would behead them for making a mistake in my presence. Here, in the House of Gamgodang, I had been Ja-young, a simple orphan who no one paid much attention to. I read books on the Chinese bench in the bamboo grove and helped my aunt in her rose garden. My only concern had been Mr. Yang’s disapproving looks, which I had always dismissed. As I sat now with my uncle, I realized I had been happy here.

  “Uncle,” I said, “look at me.”

  My uncle slowly lifted his head and his onyx eyes met mine. I said, “I am the queen, but part of me is still Ja-young. I know I can never fully be Ja-young again, but perhaps I can be her now . . . to you?”

  My uncle smiled softly and his posture relaxed. “Yes, Ja-young,” he nodded. “But only when we are alone.”

  I smiled back at him, and for the first time since I had become queen, I was myself again.

  We sat together for a while without talking, my uncle finally taking his tea. After a time, he said, “I think you want to tell me you have decided to be a dragon queen.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Uncle. I have decided that very thing.”

  “And you have come to me for help?”

  “That is correct.”

  “So tell me, Majes . . . Ja-young, how can I help you?”

  I took my teacup into my hands and told him how Lady Min had been helping me get an education until the Taewŏn-gun dismissed her from that role. I told him about my wish to learn about Japan and how the Taewŏn-gun had rebuffed my request and ended my education. And I told him how I couldn’t trust anyone in the palace and that I was like a prisoner there. I set my teacup down and said, “How will I ever become a dragon queen if I cannot learn what I need to know?”

  “I see,” my uncle nodded. “You are wise to seek an education. But you underestimate what you need to know.” He poured more tea for himself and me. He took his teacup and began. “It is not just the classics you need to know. As I told you before you accepted the crown, the whole world is now at our doorstep. If you are to be the dragon queen, you need to learn about the world. Economics, government, politics, history, science, the ways of the West—Europe and America. You need to learn Japanese, French, Russian, and English. But most of all, you need to learn diplomacy. It will be your greatest challenge.”

  My head began to spin at what my uncle was saying. “Economics, science, history. English, Russian . . . ,” I said.

  “Most importantly, diplomacy,” my uncle repeated.

  “How can I possibly learn all of this?” I asked, shaking my head.

  My uncle took a sip of tea. “It will take many years, Ja-young,” he said. “But I must say, if anyone can do it, it is you.”

  “Yes, I am willing, and I want to. But the Taewŏn-gun will never allow it.”

  “Perhaps the king can help. He is the king, after all.”

  I said, “Yes, perhaps he can. I will ask him.” I turned to my uncle. “I want you to be my adviser. I will arrange it through the palace.”

  My uncle nodded. “I would be honored, although we must be discreet about this assignment.”

  “There is something else,” I said. “I think Minister Kim is an ally. I need you to connect with him. Do it quietly.”

  “I will.”

  As I studied my uncle closely, I realized that I had taken him and my aunt for granted when I had lived here. Before I had come to the House of Gamgodang, they had lost two children—one to consumption and the other to a riding accident. They had brought me in as if I was their own and had given me a home. I had accepted their generosity and had not thought much about it. But now I realized that my uncle was much like my father and my aunt was like my mother. For the first time, I felt close to them. I wanted to stay here at their home, take in their love so it could be as it was with my own father and mother a lifetime earlier. But I was the queen now and I would never have that again.

  I stood up from the table and my uncle stood with me. “Thank you, Uncle,” I said. “I must return to the palace.”

  He smiled at me. “Ja-young, I am pleased that you have decided to be a dragon queen, and I am honored to be your aide. But we must be careful.” And then he bowed and said, “Your Majesty.”

  King Gojong and I rarely had sex, and since we’d been married, we had never truly made love. Our marriage was purely functional, a working relationship with the goal of producing a son. I had tried—and I believe he did, too—to make our relationship into something more. I had seen how my parents loved each other, how they had touched when they thought no one was looking, how my mother blushed when my father smiled at her. My uncle and aunt had a similar relationship, perhaps with less passion than my parents, but a loving marriage nevertheless. There was even affection between the Taewŏn-gun and Lady Min, though they often didn’t see eye-to-eye on matters outside their marriage.

  It was not the same with the king and me. We were too different. While I was studious and reflective, he was just the opposite. He didn’t care about his studies and lived without regard or regret for his actions. He drank soju wine with his friends deep into the night and often slept past midday. He indulged in all-night orgies with his concubines. And some said he liked to smoke opium.

  While his behavior enabled the Taewŏn-gun to stay in power, it worried Lady Min terribly. She often asked me about him and our relationship. I always told her that I thought he would be a good king and that he treated me well, though his regard for me was no different than it was for his chopsticks. I was simply a tool he used to give himself a son.

  Unfortunately, I was not a very useful tool. Since the king and I had become husband and wi
fe, I had never missed my monthly bleed. At first Gojong had expressed his disappointment in me. But after years of telling him that once again I wasn’t pregnant, he simply shrugged and sent me away. I worried that he would take a second wife, one who would bear a son for him, but he never did. Instead, our relationship languished as he fell into a habit of drunkenness and debauchery.

  In spite of the drudgery, we kept trying. It was our prime duty to provide a prince for our country so that the royal lineage wouldn’t be broken. So a few days after I had visited my uncle, the king summoned me to his bedchamber. It was another cold, starless night as I walked across the main courtyard to the king’s residence. When I arrived at the door of his bedchamber, a guard bent at the waist, opened the door for me, and I stepped inside. The king’s new chambers were more spacious than mine. In the room was a bed large enough to sleep five people. It was covered with fine silk spreads. The room had superb Chinese scrolls and the finest chests, tables, chairs, and embroidered cushions. When I came in, there were only a few candles lit and the room was deep in shadows. I smelled incense and a faint odor I didn’t recognize. It was a sweet, smoldering smell, as if someone had spilled perfume on a candle. I removed my slippers and made my way through the shadows to the bed. The king, covered with silk sheets, laid on his back, a shadowy lump.

  He raised a hand. “Come, wife. Be with me tonight.” His speech was slow and he slurred his words.

 

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